


Leave Her Behind

by Walkinthegarden



Series: Firsts [1]
Category: Property Brothers RPF
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Gen, Not A Happy Ending, Physical Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-24
Updated: 2015-03-24
Packaged: 2018-03-19 08:41:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3603666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walkinthegarden/pseuds/Walkinthegarden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When a couch finally arrives in the right color the night before the big reveal, the Scott brothers (JD included) come to the house to put it in place, where Drew finds the home owner's battered wife upstairs in the nursery.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Leave Her Behind

“Well it’s not my fault they ordered the wrong color couch,” Drew says with a chuckle as he reaches into his pocket for the key while Jonathan and JD carry the right colored couch behind him.

 

“Did I say it was your fault?” JD spits back while Jonathan moans in agreement.

 

In all reality Drew doesn’t blame them for being unhappy, it isn’t often they get a night before the big reveal off, and this sudden realization that the couch is the wrong color just had to go and ruin the crazy night of sleeping they had planned. It’s been a tough renovation after all with the picky husband and the weak willed undeceive wife. The man’s a bully, and they must be glutton for punishment with how eager they are to impress these people.

 

The younger Scott twin shakes his head as he hears the click of the lock and pushes the door open so that his brothers can enter the house.

 

They just get the couch in and situated on the floor when Drew hears something that sounds an awful lot like a book falling onto the floor. Furrowing his eyebrows he turns to check the door, assuring himself that it hasn’t been forced in or picked.

 

“Hey guys, I’m just gunna check on something,” he tells them, grabbing the banister as he heads upstairs. He checks each of the rooms, half expecting to find that someone left a window open and that the wind knocked something over. They’re all empty, with their windows at the very least closed if not locked, until he reaches the nursery. He’s knows what he expected to find when he opened the door, an open window or nothing at all, but never in his wildest dreams did he expect this.

 

One of the home owners, the wife to be exact, was sitting on the built in window seat, her head cradled in her arms, crying. Her head spans up when he opens the door, and they both freeze in place. He can’t tear his eyes away from the large, dark, developing bruise that covers nearly half her face. Her lip is split and there is a circle of an even darker purple around her eye.

 

She’s obviously as shocked as he is, all she does is stare at him with wet eyes, the tears not pausing a second. A million thoughts run through his head, but two thoughts come first to mind. The first one is the pieces falling into place, her refusal to make decisions without her husband, her husband’s temper, and her over all mistrust. The second is how young she suddenly looks, how young she _is_. She’s only twenty three if memory serves him, young enough to be a college student.

 

He takes a strangled breath before stepping into the room. She doesn’t make a sound as he walks towards her. She barely moves an inch as he kneels down in front of her.

 

“Who did this to you?” he whispers, though he knows the answer.

 

She averts her eyes, breaking into a new set of tears that makes his heart hurt. Numbers are flying through his head, odds, statistics. His heart sinks when he realizes she can’t have been the only one. How many battered spouses have he and Jonathan missed?

 

He unconsciously reaches for a tissue from his suit. He doesn’t bother handing it to her, instead gently wiping the tears himself. The look she gives him, the soft, desperate look tears at his heart. What can he do for her? What will she let him do for her?

 

“Drew, what’s taking so long…?” Jonathan trails off and Drew doesn’t have to look behind him to know at least one of his brothers is standing in the nursery doorway.

 

“Why don’t we get you cleaned up?” Drew asks her gently, ignoring his brother(s) as he helps her up. She remains silent as he slides a hand around her waist to steady her. Finally he does look over to see both his brothers in the doorway. They make room for him to pass.

 

He takes her to the kitchen, sitting her on one of the bar stools while his brothers shuffle down the stairs after them. Everything is silent as he goes through the dish towels, looking for a black one. When he finds it he runs it under the cold water before going towards her. He leans against the counter and reaches forward to wash away the blood that’s crusted on her lip, but he freezes when she looks up at him with defeated eyes.

 

“You can’t tell anyone,” she whispers seriously.

 

He wants to yell. His first instinct is to say she’s stupid for staying with him. He doesn’t say that though, in fact, he doesn’t say anything at all.

 

“You’re not going to stay with him,” Jonathan says in disbelief behind him.

 

“This isn’t the first time, it won’t be the last,” she says simply. It scares Drew the way she says it, like she has no choice, like this is the way her life will always be.

 

“Then why stay?” Drew presses, trying his hardest not to yell. She laughs bitterly, it’s a haunting sound.

 

“I’m an orphan with no money or schooling. I was a stupid kid when I married him. Do you really think if I left him that I’d get custody of my children? He’s a DA, his friends are cops. If I ever even entertained the thought of leaving him he’d have divorce papers in my face and full custody of our children before I even finished the thought,” she states. She drops her head, laughing bitterly once again. “Who would protect them?”

 

Drew opens his mouth but nothing comes out. She’s right.

 

They fix her up, drive her home, and return to their hotel. None of them sleep.

 

The next morning they do their bit, acting more than ever before when they film the big reveal. It’s not right, none of it. Not the wife’s charming smile or the husband’s too firm grip on her waist. Her face looks immaculate, painted to perfection, masking the sins of her husband.

 

It takes nearly every fiber of Drew’s being not to punch the husband square in the jaw. It takes _every_ fiber to walk away and leave her behind with a monster.

**Author's Note:**

> This is not meant to be romantic or happy. Sometimes life just sucks, such as knowing someone's being abused and that there isn't anything you can do to help them.


End file.
